


Trouble

by technicallymilkshakes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Halloween, but it's not anything serious, potentially disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 05:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicallymilkshakes/pseuds/technicallymilkshakes
Summary: Double, double, toil and trouble.Or: where one jack-o'-lantern becomes two, then three, but it doesn't matter because trouble comes and smashes your pumpkins in the end anyways.





	Trouble

You had punctured a hole in her face and accidentally cut off one of her fingers. “It’s okay,” you muttered to yourself as you gouged her deeper eye sockets. “Beauty comes at a price.”

An hour later you took a step back, rolling your wrist. The process had taken longer than you expected given that this was your first time. Disembowelment had been your favorite part. You had rooted around inside her up to your elbow, squishing around with childish glee.

But she looked nice. You admired her face as you wiped it down. Even better now that you were done with her.

You were taking pictures when your roommate came in.

She froze.

“What the  _fuck._ ”

“Look at her!” You cupped her face in your hands and looked at your roommate over your shoulder. “Isn’t she beautiful?”  
  
She didn’t say anything. One beats, two beats, her eyes roving over the table and the stains on the plastic you had laid over it. At the knives and sundry other tools. She closed her eyes.

“You’re cleaning this up. I’m gonna go out for a smoke.” And then she turned and went out back on the balcony.

You hummed cheerily to yourself as you bagged the trash, washed the knives, and rinsed the remaining flecks of her skin off your hands. Night had long since fallen by the time you were done.

“Wow, you’re so much lighter now!” you whispered as you hefted her up off the table. You staggered over to the front door and struggled to keep it open with your foot. You set her down right outside the door and made sure she was arranged so that everyone could see her as they passed.

Your first jack-o’-lantern! You were so proud of yourself.

* * *

 

Your roommate and you stood outside the front door staring down at the pumpkin.

“Did you do this?” she asked.

“No! I only did that one.” You point to your finished jack-o’-lantern. You had carved a witch bent over a bubbling cauldron.

“Then who did this? And  _why?_ ”

Your jack-o’-lantern had somehow acquired an accessory. There was a long, narrow pumpkin placed next to the witch and on it someone had carved a broom.

“I don’t know…”

* * *

 

“They’re multiplying.”

It was the day before Halloween and when you remembered the mysterious pumpkin from the previous night, you had flung yourself out of bed to check on it. Your roommate had been in the middle of making coffee when you ran back into the house yelling excitedly.

The two of you stared at the newest addition as you gripped your mugs of coffee to ward off the cold. It was small and squat compared to the broom pumpkin, but it was the most intricate. It made your witch with her missing finger and too large eyes look positively crude in comparison.

“It’s so  _cute!”_

The mysterious person (you assumed it was the same person) had carved a cat into this newest pumpkin. It was poised as if in mid-stretch, mouth open in a yawn and claws outstretched, the tail curved in a lazy curl.

“Hold on.”

You handed your mug to your roommate and bent down. You shifted the broom pumpkin towards the back, closest to the wall and then moved the cat right next to the witch. Satisfied, you stepped back to admire the scene.

“Now she has a familiar!”

* * *

 

On Halloween morning, there was no new pumpkin.

Your roommate had left an hour ago for her evening classes after multiple attempts to get you to stop moping.

“Enjoy what you have,” she said. “Someone gave you two carved pumpkins for free. Don’t be selfish and wish for a third.”

But she didn’t understand. She wasn’t as invested in this holiday as you were. You loved Halloween, how it celebrated your penchant for cozying up in your room to read dark stories by the light of flickering candles. You felt part of the spirit of the day. So you had stayed up late and woken up early just to catch a glimpse of someone who might like these murky nights just as much as you.

And now you were splayed on the couch watching a scary movie on TV, stuffing your face with the candy you bought to give to other people.

But deep in the middle of your third movie, you heard a thump against your door. You paused in the middle of unwrapping a mini-chocolate bar.

“Oh my God,” you said. “Oh my God! We actually got trick-or-treaters!”

You leapt off the couch, hastily brushed any crumbs off, then grabbed the candy bowl and booked it to the door.

“Happy Halloween!” you cried, throwing open the door.

“Oof!”

There was a much louder thump.

You met the startled eyes of a man sitting in what used to be your very first jack-o’-lantern. A messy splatter of pumpkin parts surrounded him.

“My pumpkin!”

He started to get up. “I’m so sorry!” he was saying, so fast. He was brushing his pants off and then crouching, trying to gather all the pumpkin bits together. “You startled me and I fell and I—I’m so sorry!” He was trying to piece the pumpkin back together, but it was clear to you that it was beyond repair.

“I guess you’re the trick part of trick-or-treat,” you sighed, grabbing him by the arm and helping him up.

“I’m really sorry,” he started in earnest again, “I—“

You held up a hand.

“It’s okay. It happens. I have two other pumpkins anyways. Did you still want some candy?”

“Three pumpkins.”

You frowned.

“Well, yes, I  _had_ three pumpkins until you sat on one of them.”

He bent down then straightened back up. He held his hand out for you.

“Three pumpkins.” He was grinning, a dimple cut deep in his cheek.

For in his hand was the tiniest little pumpkin you had ever seen. It was a baby thing, really, and on it was a carved a little potion bottle.

“ _You’re_ the one who’s been leaving these pumpkins? Why?”

He shrugged. “I really love Halloween and she looked lonely” was all he said and he handed you the little pumpkin.

You turned it over in your hands then looked back at him.  

“I guess that witch really was brewing something up this entire time,” you said, shaking the pumpkin for emphasis.

He laughed.

You ended up inviting Trouble inside that night, but you were sure you could clean him up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Crossposted from tumblr. If you're interested, you can follow me [@technicallymilkshakes](https://technicallymilkshakes.tumblr.com/)!


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